


So Cheesy, So Prude

by prettyoddmoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Wolfstar, Blowjobs, Boys In Love, Hogwarts Express, James and Regulus sneaking around on the train, Jegulus, M/M, None of the Marauders know, Oral Sex, secret meeting, soft but also angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyoddmoon/pseuds/prettyoddmoon
Summary: The first of September marks precisely one month since James and Regulus had last seen one another – overwhelmed by agonising yearning, the pair collides in a clandestine vis-à-vis on their way to Hogwarts.
Relationships: Jegulus - Relationship, Regulus Black & James Potter, Regulus Black/James Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 103





	So Cheesy, So Prude

**Author's Note:**

> hello, all – here's a little crumb of jegulus in honor of jily day (yes, precisely, i'm petty like that). have fun reading! >:)

Delved into tiny black letters gathered in herds of word upon a sepia page, Regulus was forced to wince as the heavy compartment door of the Hogwarts Express slid open. The heavy trudging sound bore into his ears, and he leapt up from his peaceful position atop one of the seats – the boy had been resting his feet upon the small side table made of wood so old it has probably seen more generations of his own family line than he was practically aware of.

He clapped his book shut almost instinctively, as though some sort of defence mechanism that had come upon him out of nowhere. Eyes of grey surged upwards with dumbstruck curiosity, Regulus' tense countenance changing in a matter of seconds; before him stood a much taller, _very_ familiar frame, and that frame he knew to be called James Potter, clad in a sweater of the most vibrant crimson Regulus had ever seen, found itself in the middle of pushing the metal door back shut. That didn't go down any less quiet.

As though by unspoken command, the Slytherin shot in the air, entire body longing to meet the one across from him in a long-anticipated hug. The following day would count exactly one month after they'd last laid eyes upon each other – excluding a brief glance exchange back on the train platform – and out of all things Regulus could do, or, frankly, say, he just stopped in his tracks and stood as though glued to the trembling flooring of the train as it moved forward with not a single care to give. A good portion of his blood rushed to his face, and his cheeks prickled with a blush. The reason? James had smiled at him.

“Hey–”

Robbing the taller boy of the opportunity to finish his sentence, Regulus leapt forward and toppled into his strong arms as though a constellation falling into place; the final piece of a puzzle, the last vital clue to solve a cold case after years of yearning. By instinct, James clasped his arms around the smaller boy's waist as heartily as he could, allowing himself to rock him back and forth just the slightest bit. A wave of glee washed over his curly head, and as the embrace grew more natural, the feeling of it's-not-like-I'm-not-used-to-this-but-we-haven't-done-it-in-a-long-time fading into their shared body warmth, Regulus pulled away, still being gently held by James. His priorities now lay on glancing into those warm eyes of James' – so hazel as though tubs of honey topped with rosemary branches – gazing back at him through a vintage pair of half-frame glasses. The Slytherin found himself lingering on the verge of potentially straying into them... but just potentially.

“Someone's missed me,” grinned the Gryffindor, his face splitting in an even wider grin. Oh, the signature nonchalant arrogance – Reg caught himself having missed that dearly.

Thereupon followed the moment James' counterpart finally picked up the notes of the oh-so-well-known smell glued onto him – sporty shampoo and broomstick polisher. The Gryffindor must've gone to town on his Nimbus before the dawn of yet another school year, far more than Regulus ever cared to, anyway.

Having put on a theatrically tragic tone, the Slytherin retorted, “Oh, feverishly.” He followed his words up by pulling a sulky grimace, which James dissolved by leaning down and placing a kiss upon the smaller boy's lips. Regulus eased into the surprise of the action, snaking his arms around the other's strong neck as though an ivory ribbon wrapping a crimson birthday present. Potter blindly reached behind himself, pulling down the small curtain bunched up above the compartment door window so as to gift them just the tiniest speck of privacy. His hand shifted back into place atop Reg's lower back just two seconds later, as though it'd never left in the first place.

Intending to stay where he was with his mouth, but nevertheless feeling the need to speak, James murmured into the kiss, “Fuckin' missed that.” In no time, Regulus smirked against his lover's lips and deepened their kiss by tilting his head, simultaneously feeling the Gryffindor's palms slide south; soon enough, they had been cupping the boy's butt – James lured a mewl out of him by generously groping it. In response, the Slytherin slid his palm into the other's dishevelled castaneous mane, tousling and pulling on the locks, sending gradual waves of shivers rushing down his scalp. By then, the couple had been propped up against the compartment door in order to find balance and stability in the moving train.

Soon enough, Regulus freed himself from his lover's embrace, first breaking their kiss, and then pulling James' daring hands off of himself, nevertheless grasping onto them for that very needed sense of content; now that he finally had James to himself for the first time in forever, he'd better savour every last second of it.

Taking a careful step backwards, the black-haired boy tugged the Gryffindor along by his arm. Potter issued a scoff, his eyes playfully rolling into his head, yet he didn't need much persuasion to comply in defeat, and followed, plopping down onto the worn-out tufted seat of a striking shade of scarlet. Regulus, in his turn, swiftly positioned himself onto his lover's lap, shifting atop his groin as to both make himself comfortable and awaken James' arousal.

Caught off-guard, his counterpart promptly froze with his palms resting atop Regulus' hips in a protective manner. Closing his frigid palm around his walnut brown neck, the Slytherin leaned in once more, licking Potter's lip before indulging him in yet another obscene kiss. James' head was cocked upwards, and as Regulus lifted his body on his knees and ground back down onto him, briefly brushing the already semi-hard cock tucked into his trousers, he issued a shaky sigh right into his lover's mouth. He therefore raised his big palm that proceeded to tangle in his counterpart's long ebony locks, not ready to pull him back by them _just_ yet.

Though as it turned out, he didn't need to, since a few moments later, Regulus had broken the kiss himself, sliding down onto the floor between James' legs with such bendiness and grace he resembled a serpent. Those Slytherins...

“O-okay,” panted the flushed Gryffindor in hopes of preventing Regulus from whatever he was up to (though his intentions were quite evident). Uncertainty was written all over his flustered face as he pressed on, “I've told Sirius I'm off to the loo.”

Fiddling with the buckle of James' belt, Regulus gazed up at his lover through his lashes bearing an unbothered mien. Nonchalantly, he put forth, “I can make it quick.” The accessory was undone in a matter of seconds (after all, the Slytherin had done that way too much not to have perfected the skill), and the zipper of James' brown trousers followed suit. It didn't take him too long to pull his lover's cock out of his underwear, not entirely hardened yet, but certainly getting there. His palm proceeded to wrap around the base, its grip tight, and before he had begun pumping, he made sure to sweep his thumb back and forth across the other's sensitive tip. He proceeded to earn an unsteady, hitched breath as a reaction.

“Besides, I'm convinced my brother can wait. He has his own boycandy to attend to, doesn't he?” By having made this shrewd remark, Regulus referenced Sirius' newfound love in form of a lanky, strawberry-blond and awkward Remus Lupin.

“Uh- yes he does, _bloody hell,_ ” there was a slight breathiness to Potter's voice, and at the end of the day, speaking in the middle of receiving pleasure wasn't his strong suit by a long shot – Regulus (of all people) knew too well. Therefore, the Slytherin smirked to himself, keeping his rhythm steady as his lover grew harder and harder in the palm of his very own hand.

Meanwhile, James simply couldn't wrap his head around the fact the two of them had been immersed in small talk about Regulus' own brother while he was giving him a handjob – every time the thought would settle in his mind, his brain would toss it right back out.

Black's free hand snuck up his lover's thigh, drawing reassuring circles on the flesh obscured by tawny fabric. As soon as he had detected a turbid pearl of pre-cum form on James' tip, he was alerted to begin, and leaned in, swirling his tongue over Potter's head with utmost generosity, not only collecting the bead, but creating delicious friction between himself and his lover's cock. James issued a muffled groan, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation – he hadn't experienced something akin to that in quite some time, and all of a sudden, it was too much to handle. That was until Regulus had wrapped his lips around his head entirely and began sucking on it gently, all the while locking eyes with his lover through his lashes. Potter, the blood thumping in his temples drowning out the heavy noises of the train, averted his head and squeezed his eyes shut – yet the picture of a sallow-faced beauty with his cheeks hollowed out and mouth wrapped around his cock remained engraved in his mind. Wherever James went, wherever he took shelter, he could never escape Regulus. Not like he wanted to, anyway.

Right before he would turn his gaze back at the Slytherin, the other had already taken him into his mouth fully, James' sensitive head colliding with the back of his throat with an almost painful sense of delight. His right hand enclosed the base with determined force, apt to provide helpful friction at any time. Thereupon, Regulus began swaying his head, first in a gradual, gentle rhythm, picking up his pace as he went. His free hand remained clasped around Potter's thigh, brushing up and down from time to time.

James, in his turn, was forced to cock his head backwards, issuing cut-off guttural groans as his fingers bore into the vibrant fabric of the seat. Merlin, had he missed that. If only he could have his way, he would drag the smaller boy off of himself by the lavish, well-groomed mane of onyx, and fuck him as hard as he desired bent over that filthy side table, with those same waves of black gathered in his fist and yanking his head upwards as to suck hungry kisses onto his lover's neck. But that was the Hogwarts Express, where the doors could not only be impossible to lock (as other wizards latched onto locked doors in lightning speed and found it immensely amusing to pry them open and gaze inside no matter at what cost), but the walls were made of material closely resembling cardboard, too – even with James' reserved, calm growls, he was almost sure the inhabitants of the compartment next to theirs were able to listen in on his bliss. Not like that was entirely uncommon.

Earth to James.

By then, Regulus had sped up considerably, head bobbing up and down and lips sealed around Potter's cock as though they depended on it, as though granting the Gryffindor pleasure was their only vital task, as though they were brought into existence solely for the job. And, let's be truthful, they most definitely had been.

“Goodness,” muttered James beneath his unsteady breath, one of his palms springing free from the seat as its fabric leapt back into place from being compressed for a brief period of time. That same palm was sent gliding through the Slytherin's dark hair, and, soon enough, it had gripped it with a little more force than usual. Potter didn't intend to guide, as Regulus was perfectly aware of what he was doing at all times and was just by the way doing the most perfect of jobs – he solely required some hold, or stability, and where else to find it, but in his lover's slick bunch of hair?

A handful of gagging sounds escaped the Slytherin as he ventured even deeper, his throat relaxed and long used to Potter's overwhelming length. All the while, his hand massaged the base of the shaft in places he couldn't yet reach – though he certainly found himself close. As a murky droplet of sweat rolled down Potter's temple, he sucked in a breath, his heart's pace quickening by the second; his culmination neared in form of the emphasised profoundness of the stirring in the pit of his stomach.

That was when James switched to gently tugging on Regulus' hair, pulling him back just the slightest as to catch his attention. As though wished for, the Slytherin gazed back up at him with the most innocent countenance Potter had ever seen his face bear, with his mouth still wrapped around his cock, lips glistening with saliva and grey eyes glassy from tears. What a picturesque sight to have, he caught himself thinking.

“Baby, slow down,” he mewled, voice sounding more feeble than he intended it to. “You're gonna make me cum and I don't want to yet; you feel too bloody good around me.”

Pleased, Regulus hummed against James' ardent skin in a reassuring way. A mischievous glint in his eyes prompted he'd do the exact opposite, and in that case, Potter would be perfectly willing to get a little rough with him. After all, that's what he knew his lover to appreciate most.

Easing his grip, James signalled the Slytherin to proceed, and he therefore delved back into the skillful process of swaying his head and sending multiple sets of shivers running down the other's spine. The effect Black had on Potter was no simple one; it orbited the realms of complete devotion and mesmeric admiration.

“Fuck, _Merlin,_ ” groaned James, with those two words roughly translating to _Thought I'd told you to slow down?_

The pads of the Gryffindor's fingers massaged Reg's scalp in a mellow manner; yes, he wasn't exactly following commands, but the empyreal way he was blowing him sure as hell made up for the misbehaviour. To halt and do something about it would simply be foolish of James, and though he favoured to commit many foolish deeds on the daily, that wasn't one he particularly desired to probe, and thus relaxed, allowing the rich tension to spread throughout his body and bleed into enchanting pleasure.

With Regulus' grip around his base becoming tighter and his movements gaining speed, he listened to his lover's groans grow in volume and abundance. James was right before his finishing line, an all too familiar sense of oncoming relief tugging at his lower stomach.

“ _Fuck_ –” he blurted out, his entire frame overwhelmed by a sudden surge of delight as he came, spilling all of himself into the Slytherin's mouth. His thigh assumed a helpless quiver, and one after another, James issued a sequence of moans upon groans of bliss. Regulus, of course, led his rather noisy lover through it, collecting every last drop of cum as it settled on his tongue and stuck to his palate. By preserving it, the Slytherin made sure he would let the Gryffindor watch as he swallowed; swallowed it all.

Potter's growls gradually softened, fading into prolonged pants and quickened, hitching breathing. That was when Regulus, gripping James' limp cock with his supporting hand, pulled him out of his mouth, a semi-clear string of saliva connecting his bottom lip and the head that was of a slightly darker shade than the rest of the shaft. By then, the Gryffindor had more or less come to, grazing the silky black hair of his counterpart with the back of his knuckles and marvelling at him as though he were the only person he'd ever laid eyes upon and ever would in a myriad of years to come.

Provocatively wiping his mouth with his slender ring and middle fingers, Regulus stared at his flustered lover through half-shut eyelids and promptly swallowed, his specific taste – mainly salty with a streak of chocolate (Remus must've indulged him in a bar or two) – lingering on his tongue in an almost nauseatingly pleasant fashion. The Slytherin arose in the air, and before he could make any further movement, James glued his palms unto his hips and pulled him onto his thigh. One of his hands thereupon assumed its previous position – playing with the ebony locks – while the other settled upon his leg.

Having shot a curious look at his lover's ivory neck, Potter's eyebrows furrowed. “Where is it?” he questioned, voice raspy and still a little sore from all the previous moaning.

Regulus dared to roll his eyes at his bespectacled counterpart, thereupon raising a slender hand and pulling a silver necklace out from beneath his black sweater; a necklace that housed a glimmering pendant in form of the letter _J_. Black accompanied this act by stating, “Always here.” And, before James could protest in any way, he pressed on, “I make sure neither mother nor father nor any other nosy pair of eyes ever catch a glimpse of it – it's _mine_. Besides, it's not my fault you gifted me a necklace; Morgana knows I'd be much better off carving your initials into my broomstick like you did to mine.”

James merely sneered. “Oh, for _Merlin's_ sake, you don't treasure your broom nearly as much as I treasure mine, it is nothing but a piece of equipment to you. Mine, however, is a part of my soul, and I mean to have your name carved into my soul forevermore.” The amiable words rushing right past his head, Regulus remained silent, his blood having gone cold at the _part of my soul_ section of the sentence. Right. The locket.

“Oh, c'mere, you,” James tore through the other's agitation, finding no difficulty in leaning in to him, desiring more than anything else to catch Reg's lips with his once more.

The Slytherin jerked back with a wide smirk, all gloomy thoughts having hovered back towards the back of his head, _again_. He was with James. This was about James; about _them_. Anything else in the world could wait – even the worst of the already dreadful.

He merely laughed his counterpart off, averting his demanding lips. “Whoa, don't kiss me! I just blew you.”

James' eyebrows took a signature leap and he broke out in a sweet chortle. Shaking his head in playful disbelief, he declared, “I don't care, I want to kiss you.”

“So cheesy,” sneered Regulus, his palm finding stability atop Potter's shoulder. All he received back was a subtle eye-roll emphasised by a brash grin that pressed dimples in James' walnut-brown cheeks.

The Gryffindor mocked, palm shifting up and down the other's thigh, “ _So_ prude.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! for all of you curious folk – my twitter is @/nobleregulus, so feel free to talk to me or propose ideas and whatnot!!


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